Interpretively Artur Schnabel was respected for his profound musical insights and the strengths of his edition of the 32 Beethoven Sonatas.
In his day, most other top pianists admired Artur Schnabel greatly,
but could not resist a bit of teasing on the side.

The classic joke:
"Did you hear that Schnabel was rejected by the Army."
"I hadn't heard--why?"
"No fingers."

They used to say the same thing about the Oakland Arthritics' pitching staff, especially when Rollie rolled out to Sammy Eggo in '76 (independent cuss).

You're welcome to our relief anyday, zBrown.

Jaws and tongue, check.

Just nine days after he got married to his high school sweetheart and the Upland High School team statistician (Jill), on minor league opening day 1967 in Birmingham (with the Birmingham A's), a ball hit Fingers in the face, breaking his cheekbone, jaw, and knocking out some teeth. His jaw was wired shut for five weeks and when he returned he jumped every time the ball was hit; it took him about half the remaining season to get used to being on the mound again.

Mousetache, check.

Hip, a bit sore, but will be fine by Facelift, I'm pretty hopeful.

I fell on choss today, Oh Boy,
I was not wearing the right kind of shoes
And though George just stood and laughed,
HE GOT THE PHOTOGRAPH!
Oh how that turned me ooooon...

For those not in the know, mojo in Flames argot means Watermelon, man.

Therefo', one must assume mass quantities of mojo are present in Ms. Melanie, and you would be correct.

Mojo helps the car go.

When we have mojo we can ride low.

We are driving or we are cargo.

One Dream One Night

We were cruising down the Main Drag,
Like all good car clubs do.
"Hey say there!" rang out from the curb,
Came right out of the blue,
There STood neebee in the flesh
Alive as me or you.
There, too, STood Weej, all tidied up,
"hey we're both feelin' dead this day.
we've run right out of beer and paint
and need some help, otay?"

What could we do? Jeff hit reverb,
He changed the eight-track, too.
And in a second we were back in time:
Nineteen seventy-two!
But when I saw my beard was gray
I thought, "Return when we started from."
So I struck out from old drive-though 4,
Hitching with my thumb.

I got to where you see me now
But I'm not really here.
I'm stuck, poor me, don't know how long
In some far-distant year!
When dreaming dreams in stereo,
We need to be alert.
Time slips away and steals those dreams,
And buries you in dirt.

That said, I hope everything's going O-tay today.

Jaqueline Tey, writer

In 2012, Peter Hitchens wrote that, "Josephine Tey’s clarity of mind, and her loathing of fakes and of propaganda, are like pure, cold spring water in a weary land", and "what she loves above all is to show that things are very often not what they seem to be, that we are too easily fooled, that ready acceptance of conventional wisdom is not just dangerous, but a result of laziness, incuriosity and of a resistance to reason".--Wiki

It is good to be the king, now more than ever, since there are so damned few of them!

But there are down sides to royalty, natch. Too numerous to mention, really.

The negativity of being royal makes for some outstanding DRIVEL. Shakespeare knew. Malory knew.

Mouse knows. This is my contribution to the next Bad Fiction Night at Coffee Bandits.

As If It Weren't Enough To Have a Bent Back: Richard III's Terrible Horrible Stupid Morning

"I lost my damned Orb, Higgins! Did you put it someplace besides the cupboard?"
"No, Sire, it was there the last time I looked."
"Well, let's look again, shall we? Ah! There it is, you lout!"
"Oh, that old thing, our majesty? That's not an orb, that's a be-not. It does resemble an orb, though, doesn't it?"
"Which is it, pin-brain? An orb or be-not? And why call it a be-not or not-be or what you will?"
"You must look at it from the orb's point of view, sire. It must think that it is better to be an orb than a be-not, but especially so when it is nullification of existence that is in question."
"Then you are saying it's better to be an orb than a not-be?"
"Ye-e-es, I suppose so. That is, I think that would be my answer."
"To be an orb or to be a not-be. That's the question?"
"You're the king, sire. These are not my decisions to make."
"God's blood, you sound like Bermingham! He's no spine himself, so he throws more weight on my poor frame, the driveling dolt! Well, I'll take it under advisement and decide later. I believe it's Tey time. I'm getting a bit out of sorts with that nosy woman. Hmmm...To live or not to live..."
"If you'll allow me, our majesty, I can arrange a little something."
"Higgins, if I thought it would have done much good for me, I'd likely have done away with her, long ago. It's very nice of you to offer, though. You will reap reward from me more than you imagine for your loyalty. (Heh-heh.)"

Not workin' at fishin' is the point after work. On weekends it's different.

Credit: mouse from merced

He looked like he was thinkin', "I wonder about the other side of the bridge. There's no action here."

So we told the dude, yep, you best try before it turns darker.

So he tried snagging this brute.

The rubber tree and the ant come to mind here when I see the teeny rig the old boy with the Coors Light was using.

Credit: mouse from merced

Lots of luck involved. Keep trying. You never know.

Credit: mouse from merced

Quinley Avenue Bridge on Bear Creek, west of Merced just off the OTHER Highway 140 leading to Gustine. It's flat and farmland, of no interest to climbers, their families, their GFs, their belayers or the ones selling to them.

Credit: mouse from merced

On the west side of the creek. Looking for someone like Khanom to move in here and start raising crops. Fishing and canoeing and whitewater kayaking potential, not to mention B&B opportunity, a half-mile from 140. So why hesitate?

Credit: mouse from merced

It's a great neigh-----borhood.

Credit: mouse from merced

The Stanley Kowzensalmon farm, raising cows and nuts and selling the occasional salmon from Bear Creek, no kidding. That's Quinley on the left, just before the bridge.

Ah, the good old days.
Flies and mud and streets choked with dung.
Wool clothing and frickin' fleas
Back when the West was still wild and awful...
but young.

Credit: mouse from merced

Credit: mouse from merced

Credit: mouse from merced

Credit: mouse from merced

Credit: mouse from merced

Merced had two arches, one on the south end and one on the north end of Highway 99, leaving or entering, depending...duh...

Credit: mouse from merced

Credit: mouse from merced

Credit: mouse from merced

Credit: mouse from merced

Hotel Tioga: This five-storey U-shaped building (Ah, MCR) located on the NW corner of Main/N St. was erected in 1928 especially for Yosemite-bound traffic. A well-known Merced landmark, the entire third floor of the north tower is troll and hobbit country.

Both OLM church and Central Presbeterian show in many of my photos taken from the fifth floor of the Tioga, which is no longer new, to say the least.

Credit: mouse from merced

Our Lady of Mercy was our family'c church, where I played mass and Boomer sang tenor. (I was an acolyte, he was a tenor in the choir.)

Credit: mouse from merced

I spent one early morning in this bastille talking to the sherrif, who was one of the ushers in the church. Mark Pazin, our current County Sheffif and maybe our future governor, is an usher, as well as a husher-upper.

Credit: mouse from merced

Lake Yosemite, the earthen dam, and its iconid tower just yestiddy. "It's looking to ya. It's still the same," but with the exception of the gate to restrict as#@&%es. Otay?

Credit: mouse from merced

Excepting the last shot, I photographed these all out of this book from the Merced County Historical Society.

When people dive their noses under a wave on the paddle out
it's a duck dive to get through the wave. A pearl is diving
the nose of the board underwater while catching the wave thus
ruining your ride.

I always assumed it was "purl" as I never actually bothered
to read Surfing or anything about the sport. All I knew was
Beach Boys and jams and huaraches and woodies and L/R breaks.
And face plant and ice plant.

This def. was the basis of my assumption.
Definition of PURL
1: eddy, swirl
2: to make a soft murmuring sound like that of a purling stream

Long may it wave.

De flag, boss! Yes, it's still there, Tattoo, just like it was last night when you played "Tattoo."

Credit: mouse from merced

Does it hurt to have consensus on flag display from day to day?
What if we all set our timepieces to our own taste? How'd that
go down, flyers of flags?

Half-staff still, in the heartland. Seriously, folks?

Credit: mouse from merced

A long marriage, a short cruise and a happy outcome to the ladies
on the widow's walks and the ones with lights in their windows.

hey there say, YES! MOUSE... a harpo in a serious role...
on a roll... ;)

he did excellent and it touched my heart... it was 'ahead of its time'...
(so to speak)... i could NOT find the movie clip :(

and then, suddenly just the very day that my childhood friend send me a small token of PRE birthday money, i FOUND IT ONLINE at a old-tv-type dvd place... took the chance to order and it came BEFORE my birthday...

and thus, for my three day open house, when i turned 60:
day one:
friends from the old neighborhood came, about 4...
(not counting my 2 grandkids that spent the night)...

day two: friend of my grandkids mom, very gal that came to this
house when i turned 50, though did not live here, as the grandkids
then, lived here, and i just came over for visiting and babysitting, and
of course, my birthday... (and a new garden friend, came too)

day three:
no one came, but, had some great phone calls, and:

harper marx was here, in THAT FILM, CLIP, and the good lord god,
as well, and we had a nice special time and cry, over
such a simple, yet, powerful show-case about:

one lone man conquering a HUGE mountain wall, and getting
a new friend through it all, as well... :)

thank you DEAR MOUSE... you know how to 'give good sweet flowers'
from many a garden
:)

edit:
as to a climbing route title for sure, :O

(i always like the climber handle, ontheedgeandscaredtodeath or
something like that... HIS name, would match the route, in
a good way, :O

Don't go the obvious route and throw up some lame horse joke, don't mention anything, just post the pix and leave, is what I was thinking. But that's a horse of a different color than we like on a manly/family thread.

Landforms versus word forms. Landforms and words: both depend on our points of view. There are more landforms and more words on the horizon. I may be off my rocker, too.

Credit: mouse from merced

This was a nice trail I tooken today. Yesterday.

And who want' yesterday's p00p?

Credit: mouse from merced

Who, normally a good question.
Bloody mosquitoes. A close encounter with a ssserpent. Teary-eyed romance.